


Brothers Three

by Doom1713



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls I, Dark Souls II, Dark Souls III
Genre: All 3 games are connected, Angst, Gen, More tags and characters will be added as my brain thinks of stuff, Parvus is a wimp, Taking sibling conflicts a bit too far, The OCs are brothers, fucked up timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27165451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doom1713/pseuds/Doom1713
Summary: The Forti brothers fought their way through Lordran and to the First Flame. Faced with the reality of what they must do, they separate. One crumbles to ash in the flames, one abandons the others, and one sacrifices himself to link the fire. How will they react once reunited, and with the roles they have been given by fate?
Relationships: Bearer of the Curse & Ashen One, Chosen Undead & Ashen One, Chosen Undead & Bearer of the Curse
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	Brothers Three

**Author's Note:**

> I’m going to warn you all, the timeline for this fic WILL be messy. This first chapter is just an intro to all three brothers, so there’s a lot of jumping around. Hope you enjoy!

The flames licked at his hand, much like a normal bonfire at first. The familiar warmth helped to ease his cracked sanity. So many emotions were whirling around in Maximus’s head. Fear, anger, despair, sadness. He had lost everything to get to this point. To get to the First Flame. His brothers had abandoned him, whether through death or their own fear, it had hurt him all the same. All he had left was his sword and his destiny.

  
  


The flames began to spread. First to his hand, then rushing up his arm. Maximus pulled his hand back as the flames devoured him. There was no pain, only a feeling of numbness as he was consumed by the hungry fire. He could feel it eating away at his soul. Even strengthened by the countless foes he had slain, his soul was still weak in comparison to the souls of the Lords he and his brothers had defeated. Maximus did not know if his soul would last long against the gnawing of the flames, but it did not matter.

  
  


The tongues of fire covered him now, their warmth wrapping around him. His vision deteriorated into a red and orange haze. The fire began to spread around the kiln, burning furiously with the power of his soul. He had done it. The First Flame now burned within him. 

  
  


As the world around him burned, Maximus collapsed. He didn’t need to fight the exhaustion that came from the cheerful act he had put on for the sake of his brothers. He didn’t need to shoulder the burden of their lives any longer. 

  
  


He could finally rest. 

  
  


—————————————————————————

  
  


He was a coward.

  
  


Solus appeared back in Firelink Shrine, having thrown himself off the edge of the chasm where Maximus had fallen several times while they had fought their way toward the kiln. He couldn’t handle the burden set before him. To sacrifice himself...there had to be another way. He refused to believe that using his soul as fuel was the only way to fix the Undead affliction. No….it was more than an ailment. It was a curse. A curse he and his brothers had been forced to bear. 

  
  


His long coat, stolen off of the corpse of a strange man they had met and killed in the past, flapped in the wind, the blood stains still visible from where the man had bled out. His falchion, chipped and dull, weighed heavily on his hip. And the Darksign, which branded him as a cursed wretch, was as present as ever on his left shoulder. It burned with cold fire, a chill always emanating out from it. 

  
  


Solus let out a strangled roar of anger and confusion, though in his Hollowed state it sounded more like akin to a choked man trying to call for help. He ripped his falchion from its scabbard and threw it over the side of the shrine, watching it plummet down. He tore open his satchel, throwing knives, clumps of moss, anything that reminded him of this disastrous journey over the edge.

  
  


Soon, all that remained was his flask of Estus. The green bottle was full, the orange liquid exuding heat. Solus hesitated. Did he really want to throw this as well? His mind flashed images of the horror he had seen. Maximus tearing through soldiers with his giant sword, Parvus screaming as a dog tore at his throat, himself standing alone in the dark of the Abyss before a grotesque creature with a giant staff, his brothers behind him in bloodied heaps. This flask….this flask was the source of so much pain, yet it kept all three of them going. It had encouraged them forward with false hopes of a world reborn.

  
  


Silently, Solus laid the flask on the ground, grabbing a nearby stone as he did. He stared at the bottle of liquid fire for a moment longer before slamming the stone down, shattering the cursed object into hundreds of small shards. The Estus inside hissed as it burned the grass, slowly being absorbed into the earth.

  
  


“Maximus…Parvus…I’m sorry.”

  
  


With that, Solus got shakily to his feet. The curse was his burden to bear now. He would find a way to cure himself, to cure everyone. Admittedly, he was afraid of what he may encounter on his self-imposed quest. He had grown accustomed to having his brothers by his side. But he had been a wanderer before they had ended up in that accursed asylum, and he could become a wanderer once more. 

  
  


As he walked away, Solus looked back at the bonfire. The flames crackled cheerfully, a sound that he had once sought relief in.

  
  


He spit on the ground as he turned away, away from that which he had once called home.

  
  


“I will find a way to fix this…”

  
  


—————————————————————————

  
  


Fire…

  
  


Pain…

  
  


Fear…

  
  


And now silence…

  
  


_ Peaceful silence… _

  
  


__ Parvus didn’t know how long the silence lasted. It could have been 5 minutes or 300 years, he wouldn’t have known which. He didn’t even have a body as far as he knew. He felt nothing and saw only black space, his consciousness floating in a place outside of time and physical space. 

  
  


He couldn’t remember much of anything before the black silence. Only scraps of what had happened. A bonfire, two men fighting a massive man with a flaming sword. His outstretched hand reaching into the flames…...and then a sheet of orange and an explosion of pain. 

  
  


Digging deep into his vegetative mind, he could hear a bell. The crisp, resonate sound of its chimes vibrating in his bones.

  
  


Wait...the sound and vibrations weren’t just in his head. He could  _ hear _ the bell in the silence, and  _ feel _ the vibrations. Parvus tried to move, and found an arm obeying his commands. He pushed up, feeling rough stone above him. He pushed harder, his lungs working again and screaming from a lack of fresh air. The stone above him shifted, falling to the side as blinding light assaulted his reclaimed eyes. 

  
  


As his eyes adjusted, Parvus stood slowly, his joints creaking from the prolonged stillness. Dust fluttered off of his robes as he rose. 

  
  


Where was he? The fog that had enveloped Parvus’s mind was slowly dissipating. He was a sorcerer, his name was Parvus Forti, he had two brothers…

  
  


Memories came rushing back, making his legs quiver with their sheer weight. Maximus...Solus…

  
  


Parvus collapsed back into the stone coffin he had been buried in. Fear gripped his heart as tears began to form in the corner of his intelligent grey eyes. 

  
  


“Brothers…I’m sorry….”

  
  


He had failed them, just like he had time and time again. In the one moment he couldn’t stumble and fall, he did so in the most gut-wrenching way. Why couldn’t he just be as strong as his brothers? Why was he so weak?

  
  


The fear in his heart turned to panic, taking his mind by force. He was in a strange coffin, in an unfamiliar place, and his brothers were nowhere to be found. 

  
  


“B...BROTHERS!! WHERE ARE YOU?!”, he cried, tears beginning to flow as he hugged his knees to his chest. “MAXIMUS! SOLUS! ANYONE! PLEASE, HELP ME!”

  
  


Parvus was about to call out again, but he stopped himself. He knew no one would come. Maximus and Solus were gone. No one would come to his aid this time. He had to help himself if he wanted to leave this place. He needed to be strong, like his brothers. 

  
  


Standing up, Parvus dried his eyes. He needed to find a way out. He didn’t know why he was still alive, but he refused to waste the second chance he had been given. He would find his brothers, if they were even alive. He would find them and they would rejoice as a family once again.

  
  


“I’m coming, brothers.”, he whispered as he stepped out of the coffin. “We will be reunited once again.”


End file.
